New Directions: A New Generation
by ray4ruffles
Summary: Continuation while Caroline Idina Fabray's MIA. A year after winning Nationals and the graduation of his seniors, Will Schuester finds himself in need of new talent to take New Directions to new levels. But these members and a new baby might be a little more than he bargained for...SYOC CLOSED, beginning at Ep 7, part 3
1. 1x07 Come Together, P3

**A/N: Hey everybody; it's ray4ruffles. I'm having problems getting a hold of Caroline Idina Fabray, so I decided to post the next chapter separately until she comes back. Most of it is what it would be with her, so it shouldn't jerk with the story, flow-wise. I'm working on the next chapter now, so if I still don't' hear from her soon, I'll post my version when that finishes on this story as well. But hopefully she'll be back by then.**

**A/N: Blah, blah, disclaimer. Blah, blah, we own nothing. Song featured is The Beatles' "A Little Help From My Friends".**

* * *

Will awoke early the next morning to find half of the bed empty. He put on a pair of slippers, rubbing his eyes as he stumbled down the hall, following an odd scratching noise that was coming from the nursery.

"Emma?" he asked upon reaching the door, a smile creeping onto his face as he saw his wife's form hunched over what would be their son's crib.

However, the smile dropped in disbelief when the pregnant woman turned to look at him, eyes imitating a deer in the headlights as she guiltily tried to hide the spray bottle and scrubber in her rubber-gloved hands behind her back.

"Will," she gasped in surprise.

"What are you doing Emma?" he asked uncomprehendingly, still moving in a fog of fuzzy morning brain.

The redhead quickly put the supplies behind the changing table, and moved to take her husband's hands. "Will," she told him. "This isn't what it looks like—there's a perfectly good explanation—"

"For you cleaning in the middle of the night?" the curly haired man interjected, wrenching his hands away. "I knew—I _knew_ I smelled Lemon Zest in here last week! And the Handiwipes yesterday? I should have known something was wrong." He glanced around, hands planted firmly on his hips in disbelief and disappointment. "How long has this been going on?"

"I've been working on it," she tried to reassure him. "I've been talking to my therapist—"

"How long?" Will demanded.

Emma looked down shamefacedly. "It's been getting harder in the last month, what with all of the last minute work and the sheer—_reality_ of it all." She brought her head up to look at him sadly. "I'm not sure I'm ready for this Will," she told him.

"So you've been lying to me," her husband assessed. "All this time, with everything that we've been going through together, and you've been lying the whole time."

"I thought I could handle it," she tearfully explained. "And you were so excited; I didn't want to disappoint you…"

Will exhaled loudly, feeling his own tears of frustration building up. "So I did this," he deadpanned. "Wow; first Terri, now you. I must really be something to inspire this in the women I love, aren't I?"

If possible, Emma's eyes grew even wider as they brimmed with tears, her jaw going slack at the comment. "Will, that's not fair," she told him. "I'm trying—"

"So am I," the Spanish teacher replied, not bothering to hold back his misery. "I've done nothing but try to be there for you, and you couldn't even be honest with me about the most important thing in our lives."

He dragged his hand across his face, wiping away the dampness roughly as he took a deep breath. "I've got to go," he stated, turning to leave.

"Where?" Emma called after him. "Will?"

"I don't know yet," the curly-haired man replied as he reached the front door. "I just… I just need some time. I'll call you."

And with that, he disappeared out the door of their apartment.

* * *

Michelle sighed as she perused a particularly boring drawer of files in the office closet.

"Trying to overload the room with carbon dioxide?" Lindsay asked, not looking up from her own stash of papers. "That's got to be the third time you've made that much noise."

"There's nothing here," she retorted, tossing the folder on the floor.

"Nothing in the entirety of the weekly reports?" the overly tanned girl asked. "And you know this after skimming, what—five write-ups?"

"I just don't think we should be here," the petite brunette huffed.

"And how is that different than any other day we're here?" her friend asked.

Michelle shrugged noncommittally and nudged a paper with her foot.

"This isn't about that exposé last week, is it?" the Muckraker questioned. "Geez, Chelle—everyone else has moved on by now—you and your little Gleeks need to let it go."

"I know Ernie, but what if they're not wrong?" the Cheerio pressed. "I mean, we did really hurt Katie, and she never did anything."

Her orange friend gave her a look. "We're supposed to be impartial, hon," she replied. "The point is to bring out the news—we're doing the school a service. And sometimes that's going to hurt." She put a hand on Michelle's shoulder. "What's important is that we don't let it get us down; that we stay focused, and if they don't get that, then screw them. Right?"

The Cheerio said nothing, just looked back down at the sea of beige in front of her.

Ernie sighed, letting her shoulders drop and head fall back dramatically. "Ugh, fine," she placated the girl. "From now on we'll make sure all stories don't destroy the lives of the little people; happy?" Michelle unwillingly smirked a little at her friend's declaration, and she continued, "Plus, I've got a way better idea for our next P.I. plot."

The petite girl couldn't help it; she leaned forward, intrigued. "What?" she asked in a hushed tone.

"Unlike _some_ people," she replied pointedly. "I've been meticulously keeping tabs on certain persons of interest, looking for patterns of a suspicious nature. And this is what I've found." She slid a folder across the floor.

Michelle picked it up and glanced at the name. "Nikki?" she read, eyes quirking up skeptically. She opened the file and perused the papers. "Hall passes? What's so incriminating about that?"

Lindsay huffed impatiently. "Hall passes that take ten minutes? And are taken at scattered points with no pattern? You don't see that as shady?" She grabbed the folder back and smacked her friend with it. "We're creatures of habit, Princess; timing on skipped periods is always cyclical for bathroom trips, cigarette breaks, cutting. Even you and me—we plan these trips carefully and with traceable patterns, much as we try not to. These trips Medusa's making? No discernible pattern. Which means she's planning more carefully than we're looking."

"And you want to dig up her dirty secret?" the Cheerio asked. "No way—have you seen what she does to people that _don't_ bother her? I'm not putting myself in the path of that tornado."

"You don't have to take credit if you don't want," the orange girl reassured her. "But this could put me in the path of Cal State easily. Just help me out, and I will take the full burden and hailstorm of responsibility myself." She looked at her uncertain friend. "Michelle, this is the opportunity of a lifetime: it takes _the_ Nikki Hardy down a peg, _and_ it will put you back on the good side of your little Glee friends."

Ernie nudged her friend repeatedly with her shoulder until the smaller girl smiled and pushed her back in agreement.

Suddenly, a harsh buzz erupted from Michelle's purse. She pulled out her phone and grimaced.

"Stassi," she stated. "Crap; I was hoping to talk to Caroline about the whole 'cutting practice' thing."

"I wonder why Mini-Q isn't making the call," Lindsay wondered as she gathered up her things.

* * *

Annie giggled as she and Hayden sat together in the library chairs. Her phone buzzed again, and she glanced at it for a microsecond before pushing "Ignore".

"That's the third time you've ignored your phone," the blonde boy noted. "Someone seems to want to get ahold of you pretty badly."

"It's my friend Caroline," the Cheerio replied. "She'll totally understand if I blow her off for a little while longer. I don't get to see you nearly as often as I do them."

"I will admit," Hayden conceded. "You randomly showing up to break me out of class yesterday for a jam session was pretty impressive."

"Yesterday was a lot of fun," she agreed. "I knew you could sing, but I wasn't sure you'd go for it."

"Beatles Karaoke? Are you kidding?" he asked incredulously. "I'm British; we're baptized in the name of John, Paul, George, and Ringo."

Annie giggled again. Hayden was a lot of fun to be around; different than the other guys she'd crushed on. He was so interesting, and funny, and super cute. She wasn't even really bothered by the fact that he couldn't see. The only real downside to him for her was how firmly he continued to establish that friendship line between them.

"Well I wish you'd join Glee," she told him, half-jokingly. "This team we're up against is scary good, and we could use all the help we could get."

"Yeah, well I'm not sure how much help a blind kid would be in a show choir," he said self-deprecatingly. "I'd probably end up falling off of the stage."

"You couldn't be any worse than most of our other guys," she argued. "I swear, if the girls of this team dropped out, the New Directions would be screwed."

Annie's phone buzzed again, and she quickly typed, "Later" without even glancing at the screen this time.

"You seem to be missed," Hayden commented, shifting in his seat. "Maybe we should get going."

"No!" the brunette argued, causing the librarian to shush her and her face to turn bright red. "I mean," she continued quietly. "I can hang out for a little while longer, if you can."

"Yeah, I don't think I'll be missed for a bit more," the sophomore conceded with a smirk as he leaned back into his chair. "So tell me about these—what are they, Rhythmic Revolutions or Fab Four?"

The Cheerio laughed. "Your guess is as good as mine. I didn't see them yesterday because of Cheerios, but I saw the video the guys made, plus did some scouting on the Web. They placed fifth at Nationals last year, and the blogs are talking them up like crazy, especially with the four main leads in each year— Senior Colette St. Knox, Junior Gabriel Milan, Sophomore Shala Simons, and Freshman Jasper Smith. They say they've got it all together this time."

"Well you guys placed first last year," Hayden reminded her.

"No, the _old_ New Directions placed first," Annie corrected him sadly. "And The Fab Four didn't have Jazz. I don't think any of us really know who's leading our group yet, and Sectionals is next week!"

"Then I guess it's time for someone to step up and show what's what," the blonde said with a smile.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," a voice commented from behind them, and Annie turned to see Stassi looking down sternly at the sophomore. "Hudson, say goodbye to Tiresias. We've got business."

Annie winced visibly and murmured a "find you later" to Hayden, then shuffled out the door closely followed by the Armenian.

* * *

The bell rang and there was a thundering of noise as students exited English, but Liam remained, watching with interest as Emma and Ashwin collected their things and walked closely but not together into the hallway.

"Wait up," she called out quietly, jogging a few steps to catch up with him as they entered the corridor. "You didn't take my call last night. Aren't we going to talk about this?"

"I had homework, and I don't really see anything that we need to talk about," the boy countered. "Besides, I'm supposed to meet Rhi before class starts."

"So your new girlfriend is more important than me?" the girl asked, hurt. Ashwin said nothing, didn't even remind her that the blonde wasn't his girlfriend; he just sighed and continued to move toward his locker. "And how can you not think you owe me an explanation, if not an apology? Are you that ashamed of me that you wouldn't tell anyone that you had a girlfriend?"

The tall boy turned to look at her incredulously. "Are you kidding? That's the last thing I feel for you. But ballroom is ballroom, and the Shalas of the world were pretty much the last thing I wanted to talk to you about when we were together."

"I don't know why you couldn't have at least given me a heads up," Emma insisted.

"I don't follow her bio, Emms; I didn't know she was in Glee too."

"But—"

"Emma; I don't know what you want from me," the boy told her, shutting the metal door in frustration. "You're my best friend, but you're also my ex now, and when I try to stay close, I feel like you're pushing me away. So I keep my distance, but then you're upset that I'm not there. I just don't know _where_ I'm supposed to be."

Emma looked hurt at the assessment, and reached out to touch his arm in comfort, when a bouncing bubbly junior in an oversized army jacket covering a plaid button down and skinny jeans slid in between them. "Hey guys," she said exuberantly, throwing her arms over Ashwin's shoulders and giving him a quick kiss. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Yeah," the brunette commented, glancing at the hipster girl hanging all over her former boyfriend. "I can see that you've really been tearing yourself in half over where we stand."  
"Come on, Emma—" He countered, pulling away from Rhi to take a step toward the sophomore, but the girl withdrew from his attempt, throwing her hands up.

"Don't bother. Why would you want to talk to your _frumpy_ ex-girlfriend when you can have a skinny blonde upgrade?"

Ashwin gave her a look. "That's not fair, Emma," he told her.

"Well, life seems to work that way a lot recently," she retorted, turning and continuing toward class alone.

Emma made it to her locker and roughly flipped the combination before yanking the door open. She'd missed breakfast this morning and had intended on grabbing a granola bar from her bag to snack on until lunch, but now the brunette was anything but hungry as she felt frustrated and fat. Instead, in an act of impulsiveness, she threw the contents of her meal into a nearby trashcan.

"Ouch—I can't imagine what that sandwich did to incur the wrath of Emma Malley," Liam voiced as he walked up behind her.

The girl groaned loudly. "Do I have to get a restraining order?" she demanded angrily. "Why are you stalking me?"

"Whoa, not stalking," the boy replied, putting his hands up in surrender. "I just saw you and Wonderboy walking out, looking awkward, and now you're here, alone—I thought I'd check up."

"Well, I'm fine," she snapped.

"I can see that." Liam watched as she continued to stare into her locker. "That lunch bag just had it coming."

Emma sighed. "Why wouldn't he tell anyone he had a girlfriend?" she asked.

Liam looked at her curiously. "Do you tell everyone in gymnastics that you had a boyfriend?"

"Everyone on my team knew about Ashwin," the girl insisted. "I even kept his picture in my sports bag.

"What about the competition?" Liam asked. "Did you go around showing them his picture?"

"What? Why would I do that?"

"Because you seem angry that that Shala girl didn't know about you, but they don't dance together," Liam replied gently. "They're rivals that see each other a lot. Nina is his team, and she knows you fine."

Emma huffed as her rational brain nagged that the annoying guy in front of her was right.

"Plus," the tall boy continued, leaning up against the lockers. "I don't know about you, but after seeing her, I'd rather she _didn't_ know I existed—girl's a witch."

She chuckled. "Yeah, seriously."

The lean boy pushed himself off of the lockers. "Come on," he told her. "Let's get out of here for a while—I'll give you the opportunity to get your butt handed to you out on the track again."

Emma looked at him skeptically. "But we have class," she argued.

"Not an important one," he insisted. "So unless you're embarrassed about the idea of losing a race to a slacker again…"

"Yeah, right," the brunette countered, reaching up to tie her hair back. "You've lost the element of surprise. Now that I'm onto your game, you've got nothing."

The boy smiled. "We'll see," he told her.

* * *

Caroline watched with reluctant admiration as a group of roughly ten Cheerios cowed before the pacing and harsh glares of Stassi as she stood before them. The freshman had waited until every teammate she'd tried to get ahold of evaded or avoided her text to contact the junior for advice, and the girl had managed to round them all up within minutes of taking on the project.

Since then, it had just been pacing and glaring.

"Stassi, it's going to be lunch soon…" one of the girls spoke up bravely, shutting up instantly under the withering stare the girl cast upon her.

"You are all here because you walked out of a mandatory Cheerio's practice," the older girl called out in an authoritarian tone. "If Coach Sylvester found out about this, you could all easily lose your uniforms." A few girls noticeably flinched. "However, at the behest of _your new captain_, you are instead required to attend this meeting, to not only make up the time lost working on the routine, but to properly express your gratitude and rededication to this team."

The girl crossed her arms pointedly, giving one final scathing look to the Cheerios before her before turning heel and walking out the door, stopping at Caroline and whispering, "Take two, Fabray."

"Where are you going?" the freshman whispered.

Stassi gave her an incredulous look. "_I_ didn't screw up practice—_I'm_ going to lunch."

Caroline watched her walk away and once again felt flustered about being thrown into a leadership position of a team she was not familiar with.

She took a deep breath. "Okay guys," she began, trying to speak confidently. "If we're going to take Nationals this year, we need to work together and not be afraid of a little hard work. After watching yesterday's routine, I think we should start by warming up with a couple laps, then practice our round-offs."

Most of the girls huffed, but grudgingly started jogging off. Annie, however, walked over to where Caroline was standing.

"Hey Care," she greeted. "Look, I didn't mean to cause trouble, you know?"

"You walked out of my practice," the freshman reminded her. "Those girls followed you."

"Seriously, Stassi's not here," Annie interjected. "You don't have to be the Big Bad right now. And I know what I did wasn't necessarily on the up and up. So do the other girls. But we didn't mean to make you look lacking or anything, you know?"

Caroline sighed. "Well, yeah, I know."

"So," the girl continued. "I mean, we all understand if you think it's necessary to take the full lunch to go over the routine and everything, but honestly? Whatever Stassi's been saying, just remember she's a total hard-ass because she's practically starving herself to fit her fat thighs into those spanks."

"Annie!" the freshman exclaimed, covering a smile at the inappropriate comment.

Annie smirked unapologetically. "You're running circles around her and Nikki both, and you don't have to be like them to prove you belong here."

Annie gave another easy smile, and the freshman reluctantly returned it. "Yeah," she replied. "I guess it'd be okay if we just worked on some fine-tuning for a while, then you guys could head to lunch."

"Great!" the sophomore replied. "Okay, I'm going to run, and we'll get this party going!" And with that she happily ran off after the others.

* * *

"Where have you been?" Wally asked as Stassi sat down cooly next to Dalton.

"Putting some bitches in line," the junior replied rolling her eyes. "Apparently no matter who plays Captain I have a solid role as Enforcer on this team." She glanced around. "So what are you guys up to?"

"Discussing the Double-F's still," Ashwin supplied, taking a bite of his samosa.

"Somehow the whole incident hasn't gotten any less depressing," Coby added, stealing an Oreo from Wally's tray. "It's like they took the best that we had to offer, and then evolved."

"It didn't help that we were sorely lacking the bitch factor that they seemed to have in spades yesterday," Wally agreed. "Although Hayley might have gotten expelled had she been there."

"Man I wish I'd have gone," Stassi lamented. "I would have loved to see what kind of abuse that Shala could have come up with under some real competition."

"You guys," Dalton interrupted as he and Roxie stared at his phone's screen. "I think we may have just taken this whole thing way out of context."

The group turned to him incredulously. "Seriously D?" Ashwin asked. "Where were you yesterday?"

The blonde handed his phone to the tiny freshman who passed it to the husky junior next to her. "See?" he replied. "I just got a text from Gabe—it's an apology and a chance to clear things up tomorrow night. He wants to meet."

"That doesn't sound ominous," Michelle commented curiously as she sat down, looking flushed. "Are we having a duel?"

Stassi gave the arriving girl a hard look. "What are you doing here?" she asked with a frown.

The freshman flinched, but held her ground. "I'm part of the team," she countered. "I have the right to know what's going on just as much as anyone else."

"No," the Cheerio retorted. "I mean, why are you _here_? Why aren't all of you in the gym, practicing?" She glanced around as she spoke, noting the sudden influx of Cheerios that had appeared in the cafeteria.

"Oh, that," Michelle replied uneasily. "Well, Caroline, as Captain, decided that…after some deliberation and consideration and effort on details in the routine…she let us go early."

"She did _what_?!" the junior bit.

"So tomorrow night—Scandals," Coby interjected as Dalton put a hand on Stassi's shoulder to keep her from pouncing on their teammate. "Who's in?"

"We're going to a gay bar for a Show Choir showdown?" Wally asked, quirking an eyebrow. "That's not something out of a homophobe's bad creative writing piece."

"I'm going," Dalton said, taking his phone back. "If this is our chance to clear the air, I'm in." He looked to Roxie, who smiled and nodded.

"Not much chance for clear air in that place, but I'll be with you," Coby replied with a grin, putting his hand in the middle of the table.

"Sure—I'm game for an adventure," Wally added, and he and Ashwin put in their hands.

"Well, I'm coming for certain this time," Stassi remarked, though grudgingly joining the pile.

"Me too!" Michelle exclaimed.

"No way," the junior countered. "Sorry Rox, you either. We need people that could at least possibly pass for 21 with fake IDs, and the midgets on the team aren't going to cut it." She scoffed. "I am not going to jail because of you guys."

"Fine, but Everett should go then," Michelle countered. "He's a junior, and he's got a score to settle with Jazz." Everyone looked at her oddly, and she amended, "Well, he's part of the team, and you should have _someone_ to go up against him."

"A freshman Twinkle Toes," the Armenian girl commented. "Yeah; that's the one I'm worried about. Fine, he can come—but he better not embarrass us."

The tiny Hepburn nodded and bolted from the table to find her big brother.

"Should we talk to the others?" Ashwin asked, thinking of Emma.

"We'll bring it up at practice, but let's keep the group small," Dalton answered. "We don't want this to be intimidating."

* * *

"Okay, Drew, you're all hooked up," Liam said as he finished tugging at the chest mount harness they'd attached to their friend. "This'll be a great shot."

"And those pretentious snobs thought we were geeks that were only interested in cameras," Teddy said with a smile. "And yet here we are, out in the fresh air at the skate park."

"Well," Andrew commented, tightening his helmet. "To be fair, we are putting together a human interest piece for my audition for that news internship."

"Details," Liam told him with a grin. "Let's do this."

Andrew had actually been planning this for weeks. The submissions board not only wanted you to demonstrate your skill with a camera, but they asked for an example of your ability to capture people in a "unique light". So he and Liam decided to combine his first love, filming, with his distant but still important second—skateboarding. And when they found out that Teddy, while not an avid skater, was a frequent visitor of a wheelchair park with his brother, they easily persuaded him to join them.

"Here we go," Andrew called out, turning on his Hero camera and dropping over the edge.

He swooped through the bowl and pivoted his board backwards to watch his friends in skates awkwardly roll down the hill, _What would you think if I sang out of tune_

_Would you stand up and walk out on me_

Just as Liam stumbled, crashing into the side, Andrew rolled to his friend and held out his hand, _Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song_

_and I'll try not to sing out of key_

_Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends_, the two harmonized, with Teddy rolling beside them as they made their way back up

_Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends_

_Mm, Gonna try with a little help from my friends_

The smallest of the trio began swerving through the park, catching shots of known acquaintances pulling tricks around the half-pipes and rails.

_Do you need anybody_, he sang, recording Matt and Lisa grab hands as they flew down the bowl

_I need somebody to love_

He recorded Riley and Morgan paralleling each other on the rails_, Could it be anybody_

_I want somebody to love_

They spent hours at the park, collecting all sorts of shots and interviews of friends showing their stuff. As they made their way back to Drew's house to cook up some popcorn and check the footage, the brunette smiled widely as he took of the camera.

_Would you believe in a love at first sight_, Andrew sang as Teddy and Liam walked into the door

Teddy grinned and opened his phone to a goofy video of him and Caroline dancing badly, _Yes, I'm certain that it happens all the time_

_What do you see when you turn out the light,_ Liam asked his friend

Andrew glanced around at his room full of drives and DVDs and recording equipment_, I can't tell you, but I know it's mine_

_Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends _he sang out

The three boys grinned and harmonized, _Mm, Gonna try with a little help from my friends _

_Oh, I get high with a little help from my friends_

_Yes, I get by with a little help from my friends_, Drew sang as he sat by himself later that night, ejecting the finished DVD from his computer and sliding it into a disc slip

_With a little help from my friends_

Andrew knew that this application was going to be a winner.

* * *

"Everett, get out of there!" a voice whined from outside the junior's bedroom, interrupting his thoughts as they were followed by a round of bangs on the door made by a tiny fist. "I need to talk to you!" his sister's whine echoed through the house.

The curly-haired boy huffed and stalked over to his door, grateful as he turned the lock that their fathers were both working late, or he might have gotten scolded for avoiding her (which he wasn't—exactly).

"What?" he asked curtly, trying to look menacing. However, there was little that scared his little sister, and furthest from the list was an angry big brother.

"What are you doing holed up in here?" she asked curiously as she sat on his bed, looking around as she tucked her legs beneath her. "I haven't seen you since your dropped me off at school this morning."

"You said you had a ride home," he reminded her, collecting his play notes and random scraps of paper into a neat pile and sliding them into his drawer.

"I did," she replied. "But you still usually hang around until I get home, and I need a favor from you."

Everett sighed loudly. "Maybe today I don't want to guess if you were going to be detoured by a group of Jocks or one of Lindsay's grand schemes." He moved to the door and held it open. "If that's all—"

"Why are you so anxious to get rid of me Hiccup?" she asked her brother, eyes wide as she used his family nickname. She grinned in sudden epiphany. "Are you planning something?"

Her brother gave her a look. "What would I be planning?"

"I don't know—a song?" his sister's eyes lit up as she glanced around the room for some hint of practicing, finally resting on the drawer that now held his papers. "Are you going to sing something for The Beatles' assignment? Because I think 'Michelle' is just the sweetest song and—"

"I'm not singing 'Michelle' for you Ellie," he interjected, sliding his thin frame in front of the desk while still looking firm.

The tiny freshman, however, looked uncertain. "Why not?" she asked unhappily.

"Honestly, Michelle; I'm still not feeling very lovey-brother toward you at the moment," he replied.

Michelle's expression turned frustrated. "This isn't still—"

"Yes, it _is_ still," her brother interrupted again. He was fairly surprised at himself—he didn't usually talk this much, actually preferring to let his little sister lead the conversation. "And honestly, the fact that you're willing to act like it doesn't matter is one of the parts that bothers me the most. Katie is your teammate and your _friend_, and you humiliated her in front of the whole school."

"I didn't do it on purpose," she defended. "And Lindsay says—"

"And then there's the fact that you're rationalizing your actions using Lindsay's moral compass?" Everett said, cutting her off again. "What does that imply, Michelle?"

He held open the door wider, and the tiny girl stared wide-eyed. "What about my favor? It's really important Hiccup. _Really_ important. _Vital_."

"Now's not the time, Michelle," he retorted curtly.

She slowly stood and skulked toward the exit. Upon reaching it, she murmured, "You never used to be this mean."

"Yeah, well."

Michelle suddenly stopped. "You know what Hiccup? I don't think you're being mean because of what I did. I think this is about _you_."

"Ellie—"

"No, I get that you're mad about the whole Katie thing," his little sister rambled, running with her thought. "But you never snap—not at me. And you're not up here practicing lines, or studying, or anything—" her eyebrows shot up her forehead. "It's a girl, isn't it?"

"Okay, now you're making excuses _and_ acting crazy—out you get," Everett replied, pushing Michelle the rest of the way out into the hall and locking the door.

The doors were not soundproof, however, and could not block out the ringing tones of "_Hiccup's got a crush! Hiccup's got a crush!_"

The poor junior slumped back to his desk, ignoring his sister as he turned on his iPod and plugged his ears with headphones. A few moments of "Out Tonight" he reached down and opened his desk drawer, pulling out the papers he'd hastily stuffed away at his sister's approach.

It was a list—that in and of itself wasn't really unusual, as Everett always made lists of critiques, to do's, and general notes to remember. This list, however, was slightly conspicuous in what it lacked: a title, for one; and any coherent ideas. It was really just a list of attributes, things that he'd observed that apparently made someone worth noticing:

_A gorgeous voice;_

_ Good looks;_

_ Confidence;_

_ Charm, charisma;_

_ A disarming smile;_

All of these things Everett either had or had faked on stage at one point or another in his life. He could maybe emulate some of the characteristics, maybe make himself more noticeable to…people by drawing attention to himself. However, it was the last note, the one ended with a question mark, that Everett felt compelled to add, that he felt made the list more than just attributes; that really made a stand-out.

Funny that it would be so blatant, he couldn't help but think to himself as he read over the line again: _Standout dye job?_


	2. 1x07 Come Together, P4

**A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to update—it's been one hell of a writer's block. However, disclaimer, disclaimer, and the song featured is a mash-up of The Beatles "Get Back/I've Got A Feeling". The mash-up is a little complicated in the writing though, so I recommend listening to the original Stevesk0011's "The Beatles—I've Got To Get Back (Mash-up)" (I did change some lyrics) on YouTube: watch?v=fLpBOPHoHiE **

**A/A/N: Also, welcome back Caroline Idina Fabray, even in a somewhat limited capacity! Therefore, after this chapter we'll probably move back to her story.**

* * *

Will sat at his desk staring down unseeingly at the stack of homework papers he'd been meaning to grade. His clothes were wrinkled, his hair disheveled, and he had a mild five o'clock shadow beginning to appear from not shaving the past two days.

The Spanish teacher still had not been home, instead staying in a cheap motel while he tried to sort through his own head. Nor had he talked to his wife, who, despite being obviously heartbroken over the situation, wisely chose to give her husband space. He'd been simply going through the motions of teaching and directing Glee, and was perfectly wrecked over the betrayal he still felt from Emma.

"Ah, Will" Sue greeted as she walked into the teacher's office with a thermos of coffee and a wide grin. "Just the man I've been looking for. The misery on your face makes mine glow like the effigy at Burning Man. "

"Really Sue," Will muttered without emotion. "I'm not in the mood today."

If possible, the Cheerio coach's smile brightened. "You know William, I'm not sure there's anything that could put me in a better mood than to witness your near-catatonic state under that cauliflower-styled head of yours. I honestly think it may be a toss-up between this and Eva's bawling up in her office."

The curly-haired teacher managed to pull himself out of his stupor a little. "How is she?" he asked. "Is she okay?"

"Well, considering that Andrea the Giant is trying to consoler her and not her pathetic butt-chinned hubby—that's you by the way," Sue added. "Probably not looking so good. You know Will, I knew you had a gift for destroying your personal life, but even I couldn't have imagined it to blow out this far. I haven't felt so elated since my petition to get five shoe stores' Crocs recalled based on their environmentally-insensitive naming came through."

With that, the woman turned and happily strolled back out the door, leaving Will more ambivalent about his predicament than he was just five minutes ago.

* * *

Caroline was not paying attention to lunch. That wasn't so unbelievable, considering how boring some of the gossip the girls talked about was, but she also couldn't seem to keep her mind focused on the sketch pad she had pulled out to distract herself.

Things were not going well in Cheerios. Caroline was really starting to feel overwhelmed by her lack of authority in the group—nobody seemed to listen to her. Sue was starting to voice her disappointment in the squad, even though the freshman couldn't really see anything changing much around them. She was also starting to come down harder on the brunette, which in turn irritated the girl to the point that she could barely hold her tongue. What she desperately wanted to do was remind the blonde adult that she'd practically begged her to be there, and if she wanted her help, then maybe she should try acting like it.

"Something on your mind, F Minor?" a voice commented smugly from behind her, and the group looked up to see Nikki staring at the brunette pointedly, the Twins and Jennifer Johnson backing her.

"Yeah, like an acephalic," one of the dark-skinned girls commented with a smirk, causing her sister to giggle.

"Seriously, Q2" Jennifer added. "You couldn't look more like a loser than you do now."

Caroline rolled her eyes at the trio before settling her glare on their leader. "What do you want Medusa?" she asked.

"We need to talk," the Asian girl replied. When the seated group looked at her skeptically, she added, "Alone."

"You and your little posse versus Care?" Katie asked. "Like that's going to happen."

Nikki turned to her girls and gestured her head toward their table, and with disappointed frowns, all three turned and walked away. "Okay?" she asked, eyebrows arched pointedly. "Unless you're afraid…"

The freshman captain huffed, sliding out of her seat and striding over to the exit, where the older girl had already made her way. They continued walking until they reached an empty classroom, and the junior breezed in as if she owned it.

"You ever think about the universe, little Q?" she asked, pawing at an orb on a mobile and watching it spin. "How it works?"

"What?" Whatever her nemesis had been going to say, contemplating the cosmos really hadn't been on Caroline's list of guesses.

Nikki glanced at her. "Chaos theory is the idea that something small, seemingly insignificant, has huge effects on the world around us. The butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil causes a hurricane halfway across the world, that sort of thing." She narrowed her eyes. "You, unfortunately, have seemingly become my butterfly wing, as you are an insignificant nothing who rides the coattails of her sister's popularity to get everything she wants from this school, but in the meantime is succeeding in running my Cheerios into the ground."

"Excuse me?" Caroline retorted angrily. "I'm not—"

"You are, actually; and everyone's noticed it," Nikki continued, huffing as she examined the moon in her hand. "Look Fabray; it's no secret I don't like you. I understand you've got skills that may make you semi-valuable as a cheerleader, and people find you amiable, but your methods for leading suck, and are either going to get you kicked off or bring down my team. The former thought makes me giddy, but the latter is what I worry about. You think I'm a bitch, and rightly so, but I've worked for two years learning to be a Cheerio Captain and becoming what it takes to get us a National Championship. You got dropped into all of this based on a name and a couple of gymnastics medals."

Caroline made a face, but said nothing. She wanted to throw out a snappy line to put the HBIC in her place, but in the back of her mind she couldn't help but agree with the main point of the older girl's take-home message. "So what's your point?" she finally said, still trying to look assertive. "That I should be more like you? Reduce people to stone with a glance?"

The older girl scoffed. "Like you could," she replied. "How about if you want to keep from destroying everything the Cheerios stands for, you start separating who you are as a friend from who you are as a captain. Tap into the inner bitch the Original was famous for."

"I'm not my sister," the freshman retorted, half in anger and half in regret.

"No, you're a freshman loser that thinks her shit smells better than the rest," Nikki replied. "But you're also a Fabray, and that does mean something, even if you haven't figured out what yet."

The junior paused a moment, then wrinkled her nose. "God, I feel like I've been pulled into a Bizarro After School Special," she said, glancing around, then looking at the girl in front of her incredulously. "Why don't you just do us all a favor and quit before you break someone's leg, or worse, their talent?"

With another huff of frustration, the pink-streaked Cheerio strode out the door and left Caroline puzzled and wondering about the curious encounter.

* * *

An unhappy whine cut through the dark, followed by shuffling and finally a flicker signaling the light turning on in the gymnasium storage room. Hayley quickly covered up the disappointed look that had settled on her face as Stassi looked back her way as she straightened up her uniform.

"Ugh," the older girl commented, running a hand through her hair. "I was hoping this spot would have better ventilation."

"We could always find a room with a window," the other suggested.

"Yeah, because an open window screams privacy," Stassi replied with an eyeroll, bending down to straighten her laces.

"Yeah, I guess it various moans and squeals would make for a suspicious rendezvous point," the sophomore smirked, admiring the view. She took a step forward to run her fingers along the other's back. "What's your rush? There's still another twenty minutes or so left in this period."

"Yeah, well," Stassi replied gruffly, straightening and shuffling toward the reflective glass case against the wall to fix her hair. "I thought I'd make an appearance before Castle decides I am definitely not coming to class." She glanced at the rebel. "Don't you have Schue this period anyways Hurricane? It seems kind of risky to miss his class when the counselor's taken such an active interest in your academic progress."

Hayley shook her head. "Not this week. Guy's been completely checked out the last couple of days. I don't think he remembers he's had a class."

"Hmm," the older girl smirked. "Midlife crisis or impending baby stress, I wonder?"

"I'm guessing trouble with the missus," the crimson-streaked girl replied. "I was supposed to have a follow-up meeting today for my Geology grades, since my parents sent Sara to the last one—"

"Didn't you already have a nanny named Sara?" the Cheerio asked.

"They're _governesses_, and two, actually," Hayley corrected. "And this will be the third my parents have fired, so the follow up meeting was supposed to be with me and…I can't remember the new one's name." She shrugged. "Regardless, Pillsbury-Schuester had to reschedule for 'personal reasons', which usually means she's either in labor or having relationship troubles. And since I don't see her popping-"

"Okay, okay," Stassi interrupted, raising her hands. "I'm so done talking about our faculty's love life. Glee is way too blurred on the line between professional and personal as it is."

"I'm surprised you're still putting up with it," Hayley commented, trying not to show that they'd finally touched on the subject she was most interested in talking about. When the Armenian gave her a surprised look, she continued casually, "I mean, it's no secret that you can't stand us, and I saw you and Medusa meeting up this morning…I would have figured that after the long con of getting the freshman on the squad was over, you'd be running back to your old life as fast as those chicken legs could carry you."

The older girl scoffed, digging her white toe into the dirty linoleum. "I can't just abandon my post," she responded.

"That sounds like someone else's explanation," Hayley replied unconvinced. "Like a certain pink-haired freak is afraid Caroline will feel betrayed by your little chess game, so you're trying to keep up this charade?"

"I do what's best for my team," Stassi asserted firmly. "It's my decision."

"Aren't the New Directions your team?" the sophomore asked. "I mean, you're good at this; and despite what you say you don't seem to hate us; you even stick up for us even when the Gorgons _aren't_ around. Why does it kill you being here so much that you want to leave?"

The Cheerio sighed and turned back toward the glass to investigate her pony again. She was really tired of people asking her about her _feelings_. Considering how long she'd gone without people caring, the sudden give-a-damn felt invasive. "It's…complicated," she replied.

"Why?" Hayley pushed. "Because we're not popular? Because you and your vapid bitchy shell friends are?"

"Nikki's not a vapid shell," she defended. "So she doesn't want to be friends with everybody—big deal. She doesn't sugarcoat things, but she's real, and loyal as anyone you'll ever meet. She's the best friend I've ever had, and I trust her."

"Loyal?" Hayley repeated incredulously. "She uses and abuses people like a pimp. I've never seen her do anything that would constitute as loyal; and I wouldn't trust her with a pet rock."

She took a breath to calm down before her eyes widened again in sudden epiphany. "Wait a second," the sophomore said. "What have you trusted her _with_? Does she know—?"

"She knows…about me," Stassi replied. "Nikki's known since eighth grade, before I even told my family, and she's never told a soul." Hayley opened her mouth, and the girl continued, "But I haven't told her about—" She waved her hand between them, murmuring, "How could I?"

The two stood in silence as each processed the information.

"So if Nikki's this beacon of light and joy, why is it so complicated being around us?" Hayley pressed. "I mean, if you can put up with her, we've got to take ten times less effort."

"Ten times more, actually," Stassi muttered, taking a moment before she looked at the other girl. She couldn't believe she was being this honest with anybody. "With Stassi, with the other Cheerios, I know who I am—everybody does. People don't ask questions; they just accept me and go about their lives. Around you- all of you- I feel like I'm being prodded like some sort of lab rat. Like who I am isn't enough, and there's got to be more, you know?"

"Maybe that's because we know that there _is_ more," Hayley replied softly, taking a step and placing a hand on the Cheerio's shoulder. "You're not just a frigid bitch, despite what you think."

The brunette remained quiet, then shrugged her shoulder from the other girl's touch and straightened. "Whatever," she reaffirmed, opening the door a crack to scope out the gym. "Soon enough, it won't matter. We'll all be back where we belong, and everything will be like it should."

She nodded, deeming the coast to be clear, and quickly walked through the door, across the gym, and out into the hall, leaving Hayley to watch the walls surrounding the junior quickly rebuild themselves.

* * *

"Should we just get started?" Andrew asked the group as they sat in the Music Room.

"How can we start without Mr. Schue here?" Michelle replied.

"It's not like he's really been here in the last day or so," Hayley commented.

"And we're going to need the help if we're going to face off against The American-British Invasion," Wally noted. "I hear they are tailoring their act specifically to mess with us."  
"Where did you hear something like that?" Michelle asked curiously.

"Oh," the sophomore grinned. "You wouldn't believe the tongues these lips can loosen."  
"I'll bet," Stassi replied slyly.

"So then let's just get started on warm-ups," Dalton spoke up, getting up from his chair. "And then anyone that's got something for the assignment can go ahead."

"That reminds me," Hayley spoke up. "Why did we decide _you_ were in charge of this group?"

"D's got the chops and the skills," Coby responded. "Who else would you like to do it, Joan Jett?"

"And do not even think about nominating yourself," Emma interjected. "Because I can tell you right now that you'd be better off trying to get a herd of bulls to join a chorus line."

"Nina?" Ashwin proposed, looking over at the Cheerio closest to him.

"I'm good, thanks," the junior refused.

"What about Everett?" Michelle opted, knowing her own chances were slim.

"Yeah right," Hayley shot down before the curly-haired boy could refute. "We want them to be intimidated, not laughing hysterically into submission."

"Why not Caroline?" Annie opted. "She's already a captain, and she'd be great."

The rest of the team was quiet in consideration, until, "No way," Stassi countered. "I've already watched her sink two Cheerio practices—I'm not giving her the opportunity to ruin another group."

There was an explosion of arguing and dissent before Stassi's voice finally carried over. "Guys—we've got like six hours before we're facing off with the Wanna-Beatles; for now, I think Dalton's our best bet."

"Guys, this isn't a face-off," Dalton insisted, ignoring Wally's disbelieving expression. "It's just a friendly competition pre-game thing. We'll go, we'll talk—no big deal."  
Hayley arched her eyebrow over at Stassi. "This is the face of our team?" she asked skeptically, to which the other girl shrugged.

"Get some sleep tonight guys," the sophomore continued to the team. "Everything will be fine, and we'll let you know all of the details tomorrow."

* * *

Ashwin felt lucky that both of his parents had taken off for a surgery convention in Cincinatti earlier that day, so he didn't have to explain why he was leaving at nine o'clock at night to go to a gay bar or sneak around anyone. He just shut off the lights and locked up behind him as Wally's truck swung into the driveway.

The two pulled into the lot just as Coby and Nina were emerging from their car, so they took the spot next to them.

"Any trouble?" the Indian boy asked as he slid from the passenger seat.

"The parentals weren't keen on date night falling on a Thursday," Coby answered. "But how could they say no to this face?" He pulled the Cheerio closer to him, cupping her chin with his hand.

The four stood together, waiting for the others to arrive.

"Going to a gay bar twice in one week," she commented dryly as she leaned on the roof. "It's every girl's dream."

"Hey, this time it's for business," Stassi said, appearing from thin air and sidling up beside her.

"You really think they're bringing us here to stir up trouble?" Coby asked her.

"You know Angel Eyes better than anyone," the Cheerio replied. "What do you think?"

Coby bit his lip and bobbed his head in concession. Gabe may be coming in peace, but he doubted it was going to be the type of scene that Dalton expected.

"My intel still makes me think we're going in short-handed," Wally commented.

"Okay, you just met this team days ago," Ashwin countered. "How can you have intel about their inner workings? What, are you sleeping with one of the backup singers?"

Wally smirked, but the junior across from him shook his head. "Those kids wouldn't know anything—they're just following orders. Like roadies."

The group chuckled, then took a deep breath and headed to the door, where Dalton stood waiting awkwardly. A couple minutes later Everett arrived, and the seven pulled out their fake IDs and headed inside the building.

Coby and Nina, obviously the most familiar with the place, led the way through the semi-populated room, followed by Wally and Dalton.

Ashwin stood tall as he trailed after them, smiling politely at the faces watching their group, then blushing slightly when one of the patrons winked. He quickened his pace to move closer to Stassi, who scoffed and rolled her eyes.

However, the boy was glad he'd made the move when a stocky man stepped over to Everett, lingering awkwardly at the end, and nodded as he greeted, "Hey short stuff. Haven't seen you around before."

"Ummm…," the curly-haired boy stammered.

The dirty-blonde twenty-something smiled, tilting his head upward. "Come on," he told the junior. "They're playing my song. I just need one dance."

Everett's eyes went wide, and as Ashwin turned around to say something, Coby suddenly stepped in between the two. "Sorry guy, he's got a previous engagement," the boy asserted with an apologetic smile, grabbing the other's hand and pulling him toward the bar where the rest were taking a seat.

They all gathered together, with Coby releasing the brunette's hand as he sat next to Nina, and pointedly looking to Dalton.

The blonde boy remained standing as he scanned the floor. "I don't see anyone yet…" he observed.

"Then might as well relax," his husky friend replied, sitting at the counter and signaling the bartender.

"I don't think a buzz is the best way to go into this," Dalton said, waving off the server.

"Besides," Stassi commented as she flicked through the bowl of nuts. "Do you know how many empty calories are in those bottles?"

"Not empty," Coby countered with a grin. "Happy, fuzzy calories that give you an extra shot of swagger and tranquility."

"Really?" Everett asked curiously.

"Don't listen to him," Nina told him. "Coby doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Yeah, I'm guessing Beer Goggles play a role in that self-portrait you just painted," Ashwin added with a smirk.

"Hey, I don't abuse anything," the husky boy argued. "I have an image to maintain at home, at school—it's nice to just sit back and get comfortable."

"Don't get too comfy," a smooth voice said from behind him, and the team turned in surprise as The Fab Four seemingly materialized right in front of them.

"Hey there," Colette greeted with a flirtatious smile, eyes dancing from one body to the next.

"Fancy meeting you here," Wally responded genially.

Gabriel smiled. "Glad you guys could make it," he told them.

"Yeah, well," Dalton replied. "We just want to keep things friendly."

"And we're all friends here," the junior conceded.

Ashwin watched the back-and-forth between the two leaders, but something felt off about the niceties.

"Jazz, how did you get in here?" Everett asked, staring skeptically at the small ginger.

The boy held up a stamped hand. "Riff told them I was DD-ing tonight," he replied with a nod to the redhead and a grin. "How you doing Gavroche?"

"I'm okay—wondering why we needed to meet at Scandals to have a conversation," the curly-haired boy answered, wishing for the first time this week that his sister was with him. Michelle would have had most of this information coming into the meeting, and she wasn't afraid to pester people for answers—girl could not be intimidated.

"Well, I mean, when I realized how things must have looked when that mob came and interrupted the Invitational…" Gabriel spoke up remorsefully, throwing a charming smile and a ten at the bartender as he set down his drink. "I mean, what could you have been thinking?"

"That you have a lot of friends and good practice in flash-mobbing?" Stassi offered.

"Are you implying that we staged our fan base?" Shala asked, her eyebrow quirking up incredulously.

"You mean, do I think that an entire school would have to be on a sad "Lucy" trip to think that _that_ outfit was worth fawning over?" the Armenian bitch retorted, eyes appraising the red leather jacket and black leggings making up the pop factor of the sophomore's outfit. "A little, yeah."

"Well at least I fit into my clothes, whereas you've got bits of pudge bulging out of every side of that dress like a wrinkled old blind lady," the Latina spat.

"Yeah, but I'm not trying to pretend to be a dark-haired Charo fan-girling as a groupie to The Fab Faux."

"You bitch!" the raven-haired girl snapped, barely held back by Jazz. "Like those lounge-act tribute bands could hold a candle to us!"

"Sorry," Stassi countered. "All I heard was 'Coochie, coochie, coochie!'"

As Jazz desperately held on to the infuriated Latina, Ashwin stepped behind the Cheerio and grabbed her arms as Nina blocked the visual line between the rivals. Meanwhile, the angel-eyed leader remained completely serene, sipping his drink and continuing over Shala's ranting, "So obviously we've got some competitive issues to work out, and I feel like the best way to prove our intentions—" he winked at Coby "—would be to have a more unbiased performance."  
"Unbiased?" Nina repeated, pushing herself up against the struggling girl behind her.

Colette smiled brightly. "Something on more equal footing," she replied, tugging coquettishly at the loops of her tight green trousers. "Give you a chance to prove you're more than just a pretty face." She arched her eyebrow suggestively at the Bulgarian.

The light-toned junior frowned uncomfortably, and Dalton asked, "What were you thinking?"

"A sing-off!" Jazz shouted ecstatically. Gabriel gave him a look, and the boy calmed himself down appropriately. "A proper duel between teams, to show who's got the goods once and for all."

"Isn't that what Sectionals is about?" Ashwin asked, loosening his grip on Stassi as she seemed to calm down.

"Let's just say this way you can go in knowing where your Karaoke-cover band stands in the grand scheme of things," Shala told him with a malicious smile.

"So what—you want to go out in the alley?" Stassi asked, shifting back to the front of the gorup. "Seven against four? Seems a little awkward."

"Of course not," Gabriel answered. "You gather your team and we'll meet you in front of the school at eleven. Sound fair?"

Without waiting for a definitive answer, the four rivals smiled in parting and headed for the door. A minute later, the seven McKinley students were once again alone at the bar.

"Okay, now I really need a drink," Coby finally said, putting his hand up to get someone's attention.

"Come on," Nina urged, grabbing the husky boy's arm and dragging him out the door, with the others closely following.

The group exited in time to watch VW roll out of the car blasting "Ticket to Ride".

"We're not really doing this?" Everett asked, watching the headlights disappear. "You know whatever they're planning can't possibly be legal."

"But if we don't go—" Coby argued, glancing at Nina.

"There's a lot at stake in this showdown," Dalton said grudgingly. "I don't want to give them the edge by having them think we're chicken."

"Anyways," Ashwin added. "They haven't heard us yet. We may surprise them."

"Not likely," Stassi retorted. "They've got experience together, and they've got game. We're playing on their turf, by their rules."

"But—" Nina asked, knowing the junior.

"But I'd rather see for myself what we're going up against. We know they're good at rehearsed music—let's see how they stack up against adlibbing under pressure."

"You guys—!" Everett argued. He couldn't believe they were actually considering this.

"Call everyone," Stassi interjected, pulling out her phone as she watched the foursome drive away. "We're having a rumble."

* * *

Michelle was bouncing excitedly in place as they all stood outside Rigby's giant auditorium. She'd gotten a text from Everett and Stassi almost simulataneously: one asking her if she thought she could sneak around their Dads and get here, and one demanding it.

Everett, on the other hand, was nowhere near as pleased. He had no desire to cross Stassi, but—

"This is insane," he whispered to Coby. "And illegal—what if we get caught?"

"Relax Roger," the larger boy replied. "We're just a couple of kids singing on school grounds. How much trouble can we possibly get into? Plus, Gabe's leading this party—I'm sure it's safe as houses."

The curly-haired junior wanted to argue further—the word of the sleazy, silver-tongued competition was not comforting—but they were interrupted by the all-too familiar revving of Red's convertible. The car pulled up to the sidewalk, closely followed by a string of SUVs, and the entirety of the Fab Four emerged onto the concrete. The boy couldn't help but notice that, while the New Directions called from bed were clad in jeans or sweats, the twenty background singers were once again all decked out in matching outfits—khaki costume jackets this time that fit the band's Shea Stadium look, complete with slightly longer, stylistically messier hairstyles—and wondered if this was really as spur of the moment as Gabriel had made it seem back at Scandals.

"So are we doing this or what?" Hayley demanded.

"Here?" The junior replied incredulously, sweeping his hands elegantly across his black jacket. "Of course not."  
"We've got our own setting for proper showdowns," Shala smirked as their leader made their way to the locked building and hunched over the door.

"Whoa," Dalton said. "You can't be serious."

"What's a competition without a little danger?" Gabriel asked with a smile as he stepped back and pushed open the newly picked door. He grinned at the McKinley team as his own began filing up the stairs. "You guys coming, or what?"

Stassi, Dalton, Coby, Everett, Ashwin, Nina, and Wally all looked at each other. All of them looked uncertain to varying degrees, which scared Everett even more—if Anastassia Moran was uncomfortable with something, then he really did not think they should be doing it. The small brunette boy shook his head at Dalton, desperately trying to convey that it was not worth it.

Coby, however, looked to Wally with a tilted eyebrow, which the sophomore mirrored as they both looked to their newly-elected captain. After a moment, Stassi exhaled and shrugged, and the four began following their rivals up the stairs, the rest of the team trailing after them. Not even Emma hesitated as they filed through the door, and Everett felt he had no choice but to go as well.

The hall echoed with footsteps as the two groups trudged farther and farther upwards, and Everett kept looking from one determined face to another as he tried to feel something other than the dread that had sat with him since the conversation at Scandals. However, the only thing that changed was that his feeling was suddenly allowed a breath of fresh air as the Fab Four pushed through a door that led them outside.

Coby looked around and couldn't help but be thrilled by scene that lay before them. They were on the rooftop of the auditorium, with instruments before them and tiny lights of streetlamps and dimly lit stores surrounding them. It was all but magical, and he knew that this wasn't Gabe's first time flirting with the wrong side of the law. He knew Everett was probably right about getting into trouble, but the exhilaration of the moment easily put it out of his mind.

"I thought your group didn't play instruments," Hayley noted as she looked at the set strategically put together near the flat top.

"Those are for you," Colette told her happily, leaning back into a Khaki jacket that was no doubt Dani, though the girl looked quite stiff at the contact.

"We figured you'd probably need them," Shala sneered. "That is, unless you can't play either?"

Annie huffed loudly, drawing attention to her bright pink and green pajama set as she stomped over to the drums, sitting down and picking up the sticks. She twirled them gracefully between her fingers before doing a quick run on the heads, finishing with a pointed hit to the crash cymbal.

Teddy smiled in determination, and weaved through the crowd to pick up a bass guitar, followed by Dylan, who squeezed Katie's shoulders before standing next to the keyboard. Roxie, to everyone's surprise, grabbed Dalton's hand and pulled him to the second guitar, taking the lead in her own hands after pushing up the sleeves of her very oversized McKinley hoodie.

"Any other questions?" Annie asked.

Shala frowned, but Gabe looked thrilled. "Guest's choice," he told them.

Annie and Roxie looked at each other a moment in silent communication, and the smaller girl smiled, starting a familiar riff.

The Fab Four didn't even need the whole intro to recognize the song, and moved into place as they began to sing.

_I've got a feeling_, Colette's voice rang out as she began leading the grew in a dance number, _a feeling deep inside_

_Oh yeah, Oh yeah,_ with Gabriel coming up from behind her with a nod, _That's right_

He continued, _I've got a feeling, a feeling I can't hide_

_Oh no. no. Oh no!_

_Oh no_, the Fab Four continued together, just as Stassi moved to face them, flanked by Hayley and Nina, singing _Get Back_

The quartet sang out _Yeah! Yeah!_, as the girls countered Get Back

As the three girls placed their hands on their hips, finishing, _Get back to where you once belonged_, Jazz belted, I've got a feeling. _Yeah!_

Suddenly the rest of the group was up behind them, Andrew leading _Get Back_, as Colette and Shala took lead on the_ Yeah!_

_(Get Back) Yeah!_

Andrew grinned as he kept the lead, feeling the energy behind the music, _Get back to where you once belonged_, to Gabe's, _I've got a feeling_

Annie gestured to Wally, who slipped up behind her to take over on the drums as she strode over to the front line.

_Nasty Shala Simons thought she was a woman_ she sang, stepping up into the other sophomore's space

_But she was another man_, she continued as her back-up girls placed their hands to their mouths to stifle a staged "oh!" and causing the Latina to glare

Nina stepped next to her lithely, _All the girls around her say she's got it coming_

_But she gets it while she can_, she and Annie nodded together

_Get Back_, the girls harmonized, while Colette pulled Shala back to sing _Yeah!_

_Get Back_, Andrew and Liam took over, while Jazz sang out, _Yeah!_

_Get back to where you once belonged _the four sang together, with the freshman and senior duetting _I've got a feeling_

Gabriel's candy apple hair suddenly came into view as he took up the lead, _I've got a feeling that keeps me on my toes_

Colette, Jazz, and Shala danced behind him, singing the _Oh yeah, Oh yeah._

_I've got a feeling_, he continued, _I think that everybody knows._

_Oh yeah, Oh yeah_, the three grinned with him

Everett noticed the boy suddenly seemed distracted by something just over the edge of the roof, even as he grinned and sang out _Oh yeah_, with Coby taking the _Get Back_

Gabriel's smile grew wider as he assessed his rival, _Yeah!_ he sang out, as Coby continued _Get Back _

_Yeah!_ the boy said, stepping within inches of the junior

_Get back to where you once belonged_ Coby grinned as the other boy winked, _I've got a feeling_

Roxie and the boys suddenly stopped playing their instruments and joined the group for the final showdown as the khaki-clad singers harmonized the music.

_Get Back_ the New Directions sang to the Fab Four's _Yeah!_

_(Get Back) Yeah!_ they continued, stepping toe-to-toe

_(Get back to where you once belonged) I've got a feeling!_

_Get back JoJo_, Annie continued as the music died down, leaving the two groups staring at each other in silence.

Dalton looked back and forth between his group and theirs, finally opening his mouth to try to defuse the tension.

Suddenly the door flew open and flashlights blinded them as a deep voice shouted "Freeze!"

* * *

Hayley wasn't bothered by getting into trouble really. She'd spent most of her life making trouble, and had one hell of a school record to show for it. Even when she'd been run down by the cops, she'd always been able to bluff her way out of too much consequence. However, in her experience as a juvenile delinquent, she had come to recognize one certainty: desk cops are never a good thing. They acted burnt out and indifferent, had the book memorized, and were not easily swayed by pleas for leniency.

Not to mention it was hard to convince a group of cops that what they're seeing is just a misunderstanding when what they're seeing is forty-some odd kids up on a roof with school instruments.

They'd all been hauled into the station, and had been asked for names repeatedly. The Rigby kids seemed cult-like in their silence, as if they knew that they couldn't be identified if they stood together (which they probably couldn't, since most of them looked identical), and Hayley herself had lucked out that all of the cops working tonight were apparently new or idiots, since none of them thought to check any other county records, where she was likely on file. She'd been worried that the By the Bookie Couple might spill, but Ghandi seemed too terrified to talk and Little Miss Perfect couldn't stop crying.

So the cops, with no real names and ten fake ID's, simply took their phones and threw all of them into two holding cells, threatening to leave them there until someone came up with something that they could use to call their parents.

"This sucks," the crimson-streaked girl finally voiced, interrupting the silence and Emma's sobbing.

"Just caught on to that, did we?" Shala retorted from the other side of the bars. "I'm surprised your brain didn't explode from all of that contemplation."

"Shut up, or I'll make you shut up you Hispanic Drag Queen," the sophomore threatened, standing up and clenching her fist.

Stassi reached over and grabbed her arm, pulling the girl back into her seat. "Good Lord, both of you," she snapped, though Hayley noticed her hand lingered on her arm a moment longer than usual. It caused her to take another look at the junior, and Hayley noticed an emotion just barely hiding behind the girl's expression that she didn't think she'd ever seen Stassi show in public—genuine uneasiness.

Now Hayley was worried.

There was a loud beeping down the hall, and Dylan frowned unhappily, pushing up against the bars as if he hoped he'd be able to squeeze through them by force. "That's really important!" he shouted down the hall. "Can I please just have it back for a second?"

"Sure," the cop called back. "What did you say your name was?"

The poor boy's entire body slumped as he closed his mouth and slunk back over to where he'd been sitting on the floor with Katie.

"Can't someone just call their parents?" Michelle asked, sitting in between Everett and the bars next to Jazz. "It can't be that bad, can it?"

"Your dads are lawyers, Aubrey," the ginger next to her replied. "Couldn't they get us out of this?"

"No way," Everett spoke up. "Do you know how much trouble we'd be in if we woke up our parents in the middle of the night?"

"And you think any of us are any different?" Stassi bit.

"What about your mom, Nina?" Annie asked. "Isn't she cool?"

"We're not calling my mom," the junior replied curtly.

"I just meant since you never seem to have any trouble with curfew or anything—"

"She said no," Ashwin repeated from his spot next to his ex, who had taken the opportunity to use his shoulder as a handkerchief.  
"Jeez, defensive much?" Shala commented glancing at the taller boy. "One would think you spend a little too much time defending girls that aren't yours."

"I don't hear any of you stepping up to take some responsibility in all of this," Caroline accused angrily. "After all, breaking onto the roof was your idea."

"Technically it was Riff's idea," Jazz corrected. "He always has crazy ideas like that—usually they go better. You know, with fewer cops."

"Where is Gabe?" Coby suddenly asked, shifting in his seat as he looked over the Rigby cell for a candy-apple dye job.

There was silence and uncomfortable shifting for a moment, before Hayley said, "He got out?"

"Red's always got a Plan B in case of emergency," Shala explained defensively. "He probably didn't have time to move everyone."

"He knew the cops were coming," Everett argued, suddenly livid. "I saw him while we were singing. He saw them and left in the chaos to make sure he got away clean. Bastard threw us under the bus."

"No," Colette insisted. "Gabe wouldn't do that—would he?" She looked from one side of her to the other. "Oh Dani," she whimpered sadly, leaning forward to place her head on her girlfriend's shoulder.

"Don't Col," the khaki-clad girl snapped, suddenly standing and walking over to the other side of the room. "Just leave me alone."

"Dani?" the junior asked, eyes widening as she looked at the other's withdrawn form. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? Seriously?" the back-up singer asked. "How about the fact that I've been putting up with you flirting with everything with a pulse for the last two years, and you've just taken advantage of me this whole time?"

"D, calm down," the Latina said uncomfortably, obviously not happy with the exposed chinks appearing in their armor. "Your girl's a tease—doesn't mean anything."

"It does when she's making out with the competition!" Dani cried out, glaring across the room at Wally. "I saw the two of you the other night. How could you?"

The New Directions all stared at the sophomore in their midst who only showed a hint of remorse. "Oops," he replied with a shrug.

The usually perky brunette, on the other hand, looked close to tears. "Dani…" she whimpered.

"Okay, I've had enough of this soap opera," Stassi interrupted. "We are getting the hell out of here. I vote we just throw Angel Eyes under the bus and tell the cops he put together the whole thing, then flip a coin to see whose parents have to get the midnight call."

"We're not letting you lynch Gabe," one of the backup singers said.

"He's responsible for all of this," Everett countered angrily.

"He didn't force you up the stairs, Yarn Head" Shala retorted.

The cells began erupting in anger.

Suddenly a small voice rose above them. "Everybody shut up!"

Everyone stopped for shock, and turned to see the source of the statement.

Michelle looked nervous, but determined. "I'll make the call," she told them.

* * *

Will Schuester always liked to think that he was there for his students—that they could depend on him any time they needed him. That was why he got the Teacher of the Year Award last year. However, he had to admit the last thing he expected was to be driving to the Johnston Police Station to bail out all eighteen of his students, plus twenty-four of Rigby's.

"So, these are all yours?" the monotone officer asked as he filled out paperwork.

"Uh, yeah," the teacher answered awkwardly. "They're my—"

"County's got the right to hold them all night," the man continued, apparently running off a script as he pointed to places on various sheets. "Sign here. We've got noise violations, breaking and entering—and sign here—theft, and forging fake IDs. And here. However, since they're all under eighteen and it's a first time offense, we're planning on letting them off with a warning." The officer took back the papers as Will signed them, eventually placing them on a stack of papers that looked old and unorganized. "Follow me please."

"I can't thank you enough for not filing official charges," the teacher told him as they walked through the corridors. The cop merely grunted, using his key to open the door that led to his kids.

Forty-some odd students looked up as he walked in, and every New Direction jumped to their feet.

"Daddy!" Michelle called out awkwardly.

"Whatever," the cop muttered, unlocking the doors before heading back down the hall and out into the main office.

The curly-haired teacher was still at a loss for words, so the Rigby students took the lead, quickly filing out and leading the way through the door, grabbing back their belongings and trying to look as inconspicuous as possible until they made it to the parking lot.

"How are you going to get home?" Dalton asked the rival team.

Jazz held up his phone. "We've got friends on short notice," he told them just as two Commer vans pulled up. The team piled into the van, with Shala grumbling, Dani detached, and Colette sniffling. "Yeah," the freshman said, looking around awkwardly. "Well, thanks I guess. See you at Sectionals." And with that they shut the doors and drove off into the night.

"How are we getting home?" Michelle spoke up. "No offense, Mr. Schue, but your Corolla—"

Her sentence was cut off as they all noticed the school bus parked in the lot.

"I pulled some strings," the teacher told them, and the kids gratefully piled onto the bus.

* * *

**A/N: Cliffhanger! So obviously that's not the end of the story, but since it was getting so long we decided to put in a part five for Friday. I promise that it will come out faster than the other chapters…**


End file.
